


kirk n' spock being cute

by certainlyjim



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, if anyone doesnt want theirs up just let me know ok, pre-reformation, tumblr prompt bc thats how im choosing to take it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:23:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certainlyjim/pseuds/certainlyjim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>short oneshots that i fic on tumblr, anonymously or not<br/>the first one is from/for <a href="http://cowboydiplomacy.tumblr.com/">cowboydiplomacy</a><br/>implied spuhura: ch 3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jim, Spock, and an assortment of crew, had been planet-side for a good part of the day, and instead of commencing with the political double talk, like they were supposed to, they'd been stuck on kiddy duty. Jim drags his fingers over the wooden table, and sighs not-dramatically-at-all. Across from him, Spock is trying to completely Vulcan-ignore him, by making busy with the only padd. That Spock had thought of bringing, and 'therefore, Captain, you may not use it'.

Jim shakes the table, and Spock not-glares, because, 'Vulcans do not glare, Captain'.

"Let me use it, spock, I wanna look adulty so the hyper kids don’t drag me to play again." he says, glancing out to the play area, because this planet doesn’t have playgrounds, so he can’t call it one.

"Negative, Captain, I am currently running several important experiments, that the science department cannot fully operate nor fully complete without my additional knowledge." Spock says, and Jim squints at him.

He’s getting some liar-liar-Vulcan vibes, but Spock just continues poking at the padd.

"Then why'd you even beam down?"

Spock's fingers freeze over the padd, "I am the first officer of the Enterprise it is my duty-- to follow my Captain."

Jim catches his slight stutter, squints again, and nods in pretend agreement. Spock goes back to poking the padd. Spock being dodgy is Spock trying valiantly to hide something.

Jim really wants to keep on bugging him until Spock spills, but,

"What evers." he says, resting his hand on his cheek.

He likes the phrase, the kiddies had been yelling that all day, and the universal translator had only been capable of spewing that specific translation out. From the corner of his eye he watches Spock totally Vulcan-convulse and stare at him. He’s going green, and Jim smirks. Spock stares some more and then his lips twitch a really tiny twitch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for [sciencebluetrenchcoat](http://sciencebluetrenchcoat.tumblr.com/)

Spock sees the captain go down hard, phaser hitting the ground and skirting away. The Captain's body wavers and slumps sideways, sliding down the wall. Spock is too far to assist him, but it will not stop him from shooting precisely where the sudden attack had made its appearance. He levels his phaser, slowly stalking forwards and hears as unconscious bodies hit the floor. He is unable to achieve visible contact of the downed, but he does not need to.

He kneels by the Captain, “Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was only one askbox in length so


	3. jim n' nyota chillin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr wanted jim and nyota bros complaining about spock so i tried to do the thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [thesecretmichan](http://thesecretmichan.tumblr.com/)  
> A/N: unbeta'd

Once upon time in the alpha quadrant, on a federation spacestop, Jim Kirk and Uhura Nyota where off duty, together. They hadn't started off this way, Kirk had gotten off at 1700 ship time; Uhura had gotten off 2000 ship time. Uhura had chosen the skeevist bar-pit to dull her headache, and she’d walked right on in to Kirk signaling the barkeep for a hard one. She’d walked up behind his bowed shoulders and signaled for two hard ones.

Now, Kirk turns, eyes widening, “Uhura, what're you doing here?”

He turns towards her, grabs the drinks and hands her one. He leans back on the bar, takes a sip, and watches her take a bigger sip.

“Nothing, Captain. I’m off duty.” she says, and walks forwards, sits on the bar stool. The metal is cool against her calves and she shifts.

Kirk doesn't move and they're facing different directions. He takes a sip again, out of the corner of her eye, “Well I am too, so call me Jim. It’s too stuffy to be captain of a starship in here anyway.”

She smirks into her drink, “Fine, _Jim_ , why loiter in this dump and not the nice Starfleet approved place down the street?”

She feels him still where their arms touch and he turns further away from her, “Because that's where assholes go, isn’t?”

“Oh, ‘assholes’? There were a couple of those on the bridge today,” she says, she's pretty sure they've both clued into the elephant and aren't actually talking about multiples of anything, "some in the mess hall this morning too.”

She twirls her drink, the little ice cubes all but gone, and Kirk jerks around. Jerks because he almost falls over, before lowering his head and glaring at her, “I am not an asshole, dammit.”

He’s so serious she snorts, and covers her mouth trying to hide it.

He frowns at her, “There's only one asshole in the mess at the ass crack of dawn-- wait, why were you up at the ass crack of dawn.”

His eyes light up at his convoluted strain of thought, and no she doesn't substitute those last words for 'logic'.

“Spock got a comm from the science department at 0600; I'm a light sleeper.” she says, and shrugs into her drink.

Kirk nods in complete drunken understanding, “Yeah, he'll go and leave the damn bridge whenever the hell he wants— oh!, but he makes sure 'captain, the science department requires my expertise at this moment', and there's really nothing keeping him up there—”

He takes a gulp of his drink, Uhura doesn't think he was all that thirsty. “—no red alert, no enjoying the view of space— through his sciency station, no— "

“No companionship enough to keep him." she finishes, makes sure the barkeep sees her putting more credits down.

Kirk stares at her, then looks down at his empty drink, “Not even arguing with him about shit no one even cares about.”

His voice isn't quiet but neither is it normal. Uhura knows he's talking about the jarring banter that Kirk insists on throwing on Spock, which Spock doesn't really see and it flies utterly over his ears. Spock is truly shit at human shit.

She realizes that she doesn't want more Kirk to rub off on her. “But you get to spend all shift with him— some off too, Jim”

The barkeep sloshes two drinks down, and Uhura pushes one towards Jim. Jim clamps onto it, but doesn't drink it.

He looks up at her, cheeks getting red, “Did you know, even during chess, he questions the moves I make.”

He knocks the drink back, and glares at the rows of liqueur behind the bar.

“Jim...”

“No, it’s not even helpful— the stuff he says.”

Jim buries his face in his hands and Uhura can’t catch what he mutters.

“He’s gotten better, though, hasn't he?" she says. She knows he knows he has, but Jim doesn't respond.

She’s gotten him to talk with her about things, all kinds of things, and she knows he’s trying. Trying to 'implement' what he is learning, but it veers so fast off the Vulcan path that sometimes, he freezes, backpedals to his safe-zone. The safe-zone of asshole. she snorts at her own thinking, and Jim glances at her through his fingers.

"God, Jim, you're not a four year old, stop it!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: its my first time writing uhura sorry if shes ooc


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [sciencebluetrenchcoat](http://sciencebluetrenchcoat.tumblr.com/) wanted a quote in a space husbands fic and i was tired and this happened

Jim leans over the chess board, rubbing his fingers over his lips, before he picks up a rook and moves it. That done he sits back, and looks at Spock who glances up at him before returning his attentions to the game. The ship was currently at warp, and has been for the last two days, on its way to an uncharted star system. There were no away missions, no surprise Klingons being dicks, and no strange omnipotent aliens being dicks either.

Jim and Spock had gotten off shift a couple of hours ago, but have only now gotten to the relaxing part of off duty. before that they’d poured over paperwork for the good part of an hour, settling supply inequalities, crew transfers, and Jim had taken an annoying comm from Komack.

Jim reaches over and picks up his coffee, and thinks about nagging at Spock to divert his attention, but doesn’t; just sits back and watches his Spock’s furrowed brows and calculating eyes. Sometimes it’s nice not talk; just soak in all the thrumming of his ship, and the slow flashes of the stars on the wall, from the window behind him. Watch the light play over Spock’s eyes, and skin, blurry and indistinct.

He takes a sip of his coffee, and Spock finally makes his move, murmuring slightly to catch Jim’s attention. Jim draws himself back to the board, and rotates the cooling cup in his hands. Spock thinks he’s got him against a wall, but he smirks and moves another piece, totally disrupting his little offensive play. He sees Spock’s brow ratchet up high, before a glaze of fierce concentration takes his eyes. Spock’s lips twitch and his eyes move incrementally as Jim watches him make and discard probably hundreds of different moves. Jim sighs a little inside and goes back to watching the play of warp light on the walls.

He puts his cooled cup down, “Spock?”

Spock does not look up, "Yes, Jim."

“You are like night, calmed, constellated. Your silence is starlike, as distant as true.” Jim says, leans into his hand.

Spock stills, all his unconscious movements and particularities frozen, and Jim smiles fondly.

“Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the quote is from [this](http://sciencebluetrenchcoat.tumblr.com/post/49909775700) post


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for [ goldshirts-tightpants](http://goldshirts-tightpants.tumblr.com/post/55580420607/areyoucertainjim-goldshirts-tightpants-i) who wanted ghost!jim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: un'beta'd, just cleaned from tumblr

One day pre-reform!badass!spock is at a Vulcan gorge, where the the ruins of old eroded temples sit in the sand filled bottom.

He goes into the old temples, finds them graffiti-ed and empty, old camp sites litter the surrounding grounds and animal bones picked clean by le'matyas sit bleaching in the sun. He's further in one of the temples when he hears noises and pauses at a yawning door way, head cocked, listens. He hears it; the toneless hum of voice echoing through, vibrating the stone. Walking towards the humming he sees a lone individual kneeling in an open pit, robes thrown to the side, back bare to the hot sun, that stares though the open ceiling.

Spock stalks forwards, presses a knife to a back. He commands the Vulcan to tell him what they are doing. Surprisingly, they are not Vulcan, they are alien, having rounded ears like his mother's. The alien laughs at him, tells him he's searching for treasure, because look around you, there must be things here, things that are wondrous. Spock agrees with the alien, and the alien announces his name, Kirk. But he will not let Kirk the alien take important Vulcan artifacts for himself, he will take from the temple as well. Spock tells himself it is so that he will have riches to bring back to his father, Warlord of east Vulcan. Spock does not tell himself it is to continue experiencing the interesting personality of this Kirk alien.

They spend the day together, and the day lengthens to days, nights spent with Spock staring at the alien Kirk doze over his robes, some days spent with Spock in trances far from where Kirk continues to dig at the sand pit. Kirk never finds anything, when Spock watches him dig and dig. and Spock takes to wondering through Kirk's temple, as he calls it, because he found Kirk here, and there is no other name to attach to it.

Eventually Spock demands to know why Kirk is searching in only one spot, in one temple because there are many other temples to rob. Kirk laughs, smiles at him, distracts Spock by throwing a thing at him, and Spock juggles it. It is an item, disfigured by sand and stained by sun, Spock turns it in hand. Kirk says it is smaller version of something else that flies high enough to become smaller than the eye can see, Spock says it must then be a replication of this thing that flies in the sky, this crazy thing.

Spock then asks why Kirk knows what the item is if he did not know what the temple was for, or what was worshiped here. Kirk stands, slapping sand off his torn trousers, and his smile is different now, not as bright as the sun, dull like damp sand.

Kirk says that the temple wast used to worship, it was to study, and learn, and gain great amounts of knowledge, scientific knowledge. Spock does not know what he means by scientific, and says so. And the dull as damp sand smile comes again, as Kirk turns away surveying the sand pit in front of them.

Kirk says the thing he holds is from a time gone past, and it doesn't really matter anymore, but he wants people to remember, even if only by the weight of a silly toy, made for kids to play with.

Spock says he still does not understand, but Kirk waves him off, saying it's time for bed and wonders off to his robes stuffed into a corner, free of sunlight. Spock does not follow him, but heads to the roof the temple. There he sits, cleans the item with wet cloth and rubbing fingers. sand falls and so do smaller pieces of the thing. Spock places them all in front of him, aligns them closely and still does understand what it is he looks at.

The largest piece is round, faint black lines circle one half of, the other pieces are like sticks, but smoother, and not made of wood; there are six of these attached from the underside of the round piece by the shortest, and then from the shortest a long thin piece pokes out. The last four are duplicates, and each attach the same way to the long thin piece.

Spock does not understand.

He stands, leaves the pieces and sees the hole where the sun is hot on the sand pit. The sun is not hot on the sand right now, it is the moon shadowing everything, and Spock walks to the edge, listening carefully for creaks and weakness in the ceiling he walks.

He stares dumbfounded. This sand pit is not a pit of riches to be found, it will not give him anything. It is an old burial, a mass burial. From when Vulcan's killed many and brought their bloated bodies to be buried, here, in temples no one ever used.

He runs, runs down the stairs he has climbed, and runs past the burial pit, runs to where he last saw Kirk. Kirk is not there, neither are the tattered robes he sleeps on. Spock falls to his knees at Kirk's corner, hands brush over the sand, packed hard. There is a skull.

He leans on the wall, gasping, and he looks up. And there on the wall under his hand are words, scratched in Vulcan and tongues unfamiliar.

He traces the alien words, hovers the Vulcan, sounds out the last. Kirk. The first; Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: also since im shit at describing things, the thing that jim throws at spock is a teeny enterprise


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from anonny (but tumblr ate it when i tried to do thing) along the lines of: spock’s first time eating ice cream, and (i think) the ice cream is jim’s favorite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: unbeta'd, post-stxii

"Aw, come on, Spock. It’ll be _fun_ ” Captain Kirk jogs sideways besides him, smiling, with exertion reddened cheeks.

"I will not, Captain." Spock says, continues striding down the Enterprise’s corridors.

They pass an occupied turbo-lift, and Spock does not let irritation show, while his Captain is far too occupied with grinning at him, and attempting to not injure himself. Spock wishes Dr. McCoy had not waylaid him on the bridge, he would not be politely saying absolutely not to his Captain; he would be in the science labs— yet more likely, completing paperwork in his silent quarters.

Spock pauses at the curve of the corridor to let crew pass, and turns a corner, and Captain Kirk, “It’s just _ice cream_. What’d you think’s gonna happen.”

There is a turbo-lift directly ahead, Spock continues on, “You are attempting to convince by omission, Captain.”

Spock makes it to the turbo-lift, Captain Kirk sliding to stop in front of him, the physical effort of respecting Spock’s personal space is very evident, “Another point of contention for you, Captain: why would I take sustenance from the liquid secretion of an earth mammal?”

"It’s not milk." Captain Kirk says, as if fighting himself for words, and Spock presses the manual turbo-lift opener around him, "Ice cream. Ice cream is not milk, Spock, you can’t play that card, I know Chekhov talks with you."

Indeed, Chekhov has a fondness for holding no ones attentions but his own, when he begins tales of his ‘Mother Russia’, with statements at contradiction to known facts; specifically, the claim of the invention of frozen dairy originating there.

Spock watches the turbo-lift tracking numbers come closer to this deck, looks over to Captain Kirk, whose arms are crossed, "Very well. you are still falsifying your intentions by omission."

"Uh, well," he retains the ability to abash, and glances away, as the turbo-lift opens, and crew pass them by, with quick greetings, "Well, if you already know, than why do I have to say!"

His prior excitement bursts through, as his logic leaves his mouth, and Spock pauses between the turbo-lift and the corridor, “To make the situation perfectly aware.”

Spock takes a breath, because what he wants to say is not what he says, and what he wants to say is that it is unlike him to create falsifications among companions. Spock will not venture further in this thought trajectory.

Spock turns and announces his quarters as destination; Captain Kirk glares at him from the corridor, before shouldering in. Spock glances at him, sees him applying pressure to his nose ridge, before, aggravated, "Fine. okay, dammit, fine. I want to have ice cream with you, because I want to. And also because I’m gonna pick out the flavors, since I know all the good ones, and because I know you— like, yeah, whatever— you like chocolate.’

Captain Kirk stops, staring into the bulkhead, with a pursed frown.

"Intoxication is not your primary goal?"

Captain Kirk continues staring forward, and the turbo-lift comes to stop and opens, and he wipes his hand over his face, “I just— okay, Spock, I’ll see you on-shift.”

and then, “What did you just say.”

He turns to Spock, eyes widening, and Spock shifts under the look, “Intoxic—”

"No, no," he bares his teeth, and grasps Spock’s arm, and Spock lets him pull them out of the turbo-lift, "You only make conversation keep going if you’re _interested_ , Spock.”

Captain Kirk releases his hold, and Spock straightens his uniform, “I admit a certain interest in Terran culinary endeavors.”

Captain Kirk’s disturbing grin has not left his face, “Let’s go eat some ice cream.”

He begins sauntering off, glances back to Spock, stops, until Spock ultimately decides to follow, with the remnants of some type of pride at his feet.

As Spock follows, follows in the direction of his quarters, "Captain, my replicator is not set to create frozen dairy products.”

"Don’t worry about it," he shrugs, grin softened, still evident "Scotty and I rigged a couple in the mess months ago, so it’ll be a piece a’ cake."

——

Spock settles in his quarters low seating area, watches Captain Kirk manipulate the intricacies of his replicator, because Captain Kirk would accept no assistance, adamant that the particular adjustments he was to do, were possible without assistance. He looses an exhilarated exclamation, upon his successful adjustments, and springs to his feet, already inputting the necessary requirements for the frozen dairy.

He turns seconds later, two bowls of frozen dairy in hand, and brings them to Spock, sitting one down in front of Spock, and the other, he keeps in hand as he sits.

"Got you mint chocolate chip— ‘is my favorite, and me, " got some good ol’ chocolate." he says, poking a small spoon into his food.

Spock picks up his own small spoon, and scoops up a portion of the cooling dairy product, “Why did you not take our favorite as your own?”

Spock brings the cold to his lips, and tastes.

"I— uh, well, that’s the one that tasted the most authentic, and I wanted you to get a real good taste," he says, blush rising, and brings a spoon of melting chocolate to his mouth.

Spock rolls the concentrated taste of mint over his tongue, pleased with the smoothly sever taste, and brings the mint to his mouth again; this time a wet smooth of chocolate drifts amidst the green mint.

"You actions are appreciated, Jim."

Jim looks up from his empty spoon, “You like it?”

"Very much so." Spock continues finishing his mint.

He smiles, eyes crinkling, a full, bright smile, “That’s great, that’s great, Spock.”

Jim looks back down at his empty bowl, runs his fingers down the inside and brings the dripping chocolate to his lips, sucking them clean, until the bowl, too is free of chocolate, “You want seconds? I’m gonna go get some strawberry.”

Spock moves his empty bowl to the side, “I am satiated for the moment, would you care to play chess as you eat?”

Jim answers in the affirmative, and goes to the replicator. Spock shuffles a few articles under the table and locates the 2D chessboard, begins setting it up. Remembers the silent ministrations of Jim cleaning his fingers, so overtly sexual, that he must have been aware, or simply too excited by frozen dairy to care.

Spock wonders what the warm taste of chocolate would taste like on Jim, as he leans closer, and kisses him, mixing with the heady smooth of mint, and the crinkling laughter that would be Jim, as Spock helps him taste Spock's own mint wet tongue— but, he looks up as Jim returns, and his thoughts are for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: : jims fav ice cream is mint dark chocolate chip bc i love me some mint dark choco; also spocks prolly a lil tipsy thats my only excuse for that daydream at the end tbh
> 
> shhh what do u mean vulcans have a poor sense of smell and therefore taste shh


End file.
